


Rest

by especiallythezefronposter



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, I swear, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, the tags make this sound more angsty than it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/especiallythezefronposter/pseuds/especiallythezefronposter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is having a rough day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest

Tony laughs when Bruce enters the workshop, but doesn't move away from the bar by the sitting area in the far back. 'I was just thinking of you,' he says, only glancing up for a moment before looking back at a monitor he had pulled up.

Bruce doesn't know what to say to that, so he remains silent as he makes his way towards Tony, stepping around pieces of deformed metal that he imagines were useful at some point, before Tony hit them with the repulsors on the Iron Man suit, which he is still wearing around his left hand. He hasn't been out of the lab for fourteen hours straight, which is not unusual for him, though he tries to come down for at least one meal every day since the other Avengers moved in.

'Better don't come near me,' Tony says when Bruce has reached him, still perfectly coherent though he's swaying on his feet. 'I'm so drunk right now.' He doesn't look up, sets down his drink and pulls a lever on the gauntlet, making it disassemble and fall to the floor in pieces.

'I see that,' Bruce says. 'That's exactly why I'm here.'

'Bullshit. Normally you leave when someone's drunk. It's the smell, isn't it?', He looks up at Bruce, then back at the monitor. 'The smell of alcohol used to make me sick when I was younger, too, until I taught myself to drink to be rid of it. But it's not just the smell with you. When I'm drunk and I try to touch you, you flinch away. See.' He moves to put a hand on Bruce's shoulder and Bruce tries to stay still, he does, but the stuff Tony drinks smells so strongly that it reminds him of other hands. 

He steps back and the look Tony gets on his face is guilty, nothing like the triumphant smile he usually gets when he proves his point. 'See,' he says again, hollow now. When he lets go of Bruce, he loses his balance and stumbles back a bit.

Bruce shoots forward on impulse, catching Tony's arm to keep him from falling. 'Hey there, buddy,' he says, breathing through his mouth. 'Let's sit down, okay?' He leads Tony to the nearest couch, trying to ignore how Tony collapses against him as soon as they sit down.

'You know,' Tony says after a while of breathing silently against Bruce's chest. 'My dad used to play this game with me when he was very drunk and mom was out of the country.' He pauses again for a while and Bruce is starting to think that he has lost his train of thought when he speaks up again. 'He had to say mean things to me and try to knock me down and I had to keep smiling. He always won.' He moves on the couch to snuggle closer to Bruce and press his face into the junction of Bruce's neck and shoulder. 'I'm getting better at it now, though. Remember yesterday when Steve came in crying because Peggy Carter died? I was smiling after Thor and Steve had gone up to Steve's floor, wasn't I? Even though Peg held my hand after my parent's funeral and stood up for me against my dad when my mom wasn't there and came to visit me whenever she could when I was in college and made me call her every week after that and -' Something that sounds like a sob escapes Tony's mouth and Bruce puts an arm around him. 'and she's gone now,' Tony finishes.

Bruce pulls Tony closer when he starts to sob into his shoulder. 'I was winning, I swear,' Tony mutters into his skin. 'I've been winning for years.'

'You don't have to play anymore,' Bruce whispers back. 'You're not losing. The game is over.' He turns his head to kiss Tony's hair and Tony relaxes against him, hands clenching in his shirt.

'I should get you to bed,' Bruce says after a while.

'I'll sleep right here,' Tony mumbles. 'I don' wan' to move.'

The couch is bigger and softer than most beds Bruce has slept on in the last few years, so he doesn't object further and moves into a more comfortable position, keeping an arm around Tony and pressing another kiss to his hair.


End file.
